


Beginnings Are Never Overrated

by cadkitten



Series: A Fair Game of Sex [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dating, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Guidance, M/M, Multiple Orgasms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 02:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: Prequel to Nothing's Rude in a Fair Game of SexBeta: sakuraameHe wasn't sure what had changed between them or how, but something had. Around a month ago, he'd felt it, almost like a light switch inside him. They'd been talking, idling between work and home life conversations and while the conversation had started as they always did with Clark, Bruce had felt a certain sadness in him to watch Clark leave that evening. The feeling was unfamiliar and it wrenched something inside him, drew on something he'd layered deep inside himself and clenched.





	Beginnings Are Never Overrated

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to Nothing's Rude in a Fair Game of Sex  
> Beta: sakuraameHe wasn't sure what had changed between them or how, but something had. Around a month ago, he'd felt it, almost like a light switch inside him. They'd been talking, idling between work and home life conversations and while the conversation had started as they always did with Clark, Bruce had felt a certain sadness in him to watch Clark leave that evening. The feeling was unfamiliar and it wrenched something inside him, drew on something he'd layered deep inside himself and clenched.

Bruce settled with his ass against the edge of Clark's kitchen table. He crossed his arms over his chest and reserved the sigh he had built up inside him, instead closing his eyes and listening to Clark dart around the kitchen, presumably making them dinner. He'd insisted on them talking over a meal instead of standing around in the cave or the fortress - a rare visit which Bruce had been privy to exactly three weeks ago. 

He wasn't sure what had changed between them or how, but something had. Around a month ago, he'd felt it, almost like a light switch inside him. They'd been talking, idling between work and home life conversations and while the conversation had started as they always did with Clark, Bruce had felt a certain sadness in him to watch Clark leave that evening. The feeling was unfamiliar and it wrenched something inside him, drew on something he'd layered deep inside himself and clenched. 

The visit to the fortress hadn't been his idea, but when he'd received the invitation, he felt like perhaps he wasn't the only one who had felt the strange sort of shift between them. So he'd gone, willingly, and while he'd been frozen, he also hadn't complained. He also hadn't complained when Clark had rather intentionally gathered him up and taken him there _and back_ in his arms instead of simply waiting on Bruce to fly there. 

Now, he was here, inside Clark's home, dressed in slacks and a button-up, trying his best to read this situation as friendship instead of what he honestly thought it might be leading toward. First invites to Clark's private _secret_ lair and now an invitation to his home... to _dinner_. 

The oven beeped and he heard Clark put something in it, opened his eyes when the air shifted near enough to him he could only assume it was Clark's presence. Clark stood too near for coworkers, nearly too close for friends. Bruce felt his body responding and he tamped down on it viciously, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. He didn't want to break the moment if it _was_ a moment, but he also didn't want to misread anything.

Hope... hope was a fragile and horrible thing in Bruce's mind.

Clark took another step closer and Bruce felt his lips part, his heart speed up, his body take a vested interest in Clark's nearness, and he realized that he wasn't just aware that this could be going down this particular path, but that he _wanted_ it to. He swallowed. He tipped his head up and Clark's warm mouth over his own was all it took to break him.

His hands came to fist in the front of Clark's flannel shirt, his hips won the fight he was having with them as they canted toward Clark just the smallest amount, a show of just how much he wanted this. Mostly, he kissed Clark like he'd been needing this his entire life. 

Clark backed him against the counter, broad palms roaming over Bruce's hips and sides, and then he was flush against Clark, feeling his excitement as he rocked against Bruce's own hardening cock. 

Their kiss broke and Bruce kept his eyes closed, tipped his head back and allowed his breath to become uneven. His cock hardened and strained and he wondered to himself why he'd never allowed himself this with another man before. He'd had all the women he'd ever wanted, perhaps some he didn't truly want in the name of duty, but he'd never ever been graced with a fellow male presence like this. 

His body responded with desperate need, ramping the usual high he had during sexual encounters to a multiplicity he couldn’t be bothered to calculate right then. Their lips met again, Clark's hand in his hair, and Bruce rocked his hips, eager to show Clark he wanted this, that he was going for it and there was no need to stop or slow down. Clark's length strained the front of his jeans and Bruce rubbed against it desperately, utterly in love with the feeling of another man's prick grinding against his own. His toes curled in his shoes and he rocked faster, his need swelling up inside him, making him feel like a teenager all over again.

Their kiss broke and Clark's hands grasped his belt, held on and waited until Bruce opened his eyes to find Clark kneeling in front of him, staring up at him, pupils blown, his need a bald sort of thing within them. Bruce nodded and before he could blink his pants were open, his belt hanging limply from his belt loops, his cock straining from between the folds of material. Clark's mouth descended on him and Bruce thought he'd found out what Heaven on Earth actually meant. He'd _never_ been blown like this. With such skill and care and _devotion_. Clark licked and sucked at him as though Bruce were a god and Clark was trying to please him with every fiber of his being. He was on edge within the minute and it was only his hands in Clark's hair, tugging, his breathless, "Wait," that eased Clark back from him, left him looking up at him, licking his saliva-slick lips. 

It took everything Bruce had to back away from the ledge of his orgasm, to cling to it for a later time. Even so, a dribble of cum still exited the tip of his erection, slid down his shaft. Clark leaned in and carefully licked it up, his eyelids fluttering closed as he did it, reverent, _sexual_. Bruce wanted to fuck that mouth until he unloaded right down his throat, wanted to give it to him like he'd never given it to anyone in his life. He also sort of desperately wanted to return the favor.

Clark's hands were warm on his hips, two anchors in the point of the storm that was Bruce's emotions right then. His thighs tensed, his hips canted all on their own, his hands wouldn't come unglued from the counter where he didn't even recall putting them. He was going to lose it even if he wasn't in Clark's mouth at this rate. He closed his eyes, breathed out, "Need... this," and that was all it took. Clark's mouth was warm around him again, the glide of his lips like velvet steel around him. Bruce felt as though he were growing impossibly harder, like his cock was trying to outdo itself on every level. His breath stuck, his hands found their way into Clark's hair, his pleased cry filled the room, and then his orgasm wracked him hard enough he couldn't stop the thrust of his hips as he unloaded right down Clark's throat. Every swallow around him brought another pulse of his orgasm until Bruce felt weak, desperate to get away from such intense pleasure, until he was hunched over Clark, holding his head in place and thrusting his cock hurriedly into his mouth, working toward his second orgasm at speed. He let out a sharp cry this time, stilling and straining until he was done.

Easing back against the counter, he slowly slid down until he was on his knees. Clark looked... well, he looked pretty blown away. Aroused as hell, his hair a mess from Bruce's hands, his own gaze how Bruce had imagined his looked moments earlier. He reached for Clark's jeans, his hands shamefully shaking as he wrenched them open, something like desperation to return such an incredible feeling humming in his veins. 

Clark stood, helped him with opening his pants, and Bruce wrapped his hand around the first penis he'd ever touched aside from his own. If he'd had a smaller refractory period, he was certain he'd be straining again just from touching him. Excitement welled within him and it didn't take anything at all for Bruce to lean in and slide his tongue over the head of Clark's cock. Something eased inside him and he felt almost _relaxed_ as he slowly sucked the head, moving his hand over the shaft. He pulled up and licked at the slit, tongued it, arousal coiling in his belly at doing this. He remembered in his youth how he'd tried to suck his own, how he'd once managed to barely lick the head and had toyed with the slit until he'd cum all over his own face from the sheer excitement of what he _still_ counted as his first blowjob. 

He wrapped his lips around the head and tried to go down, his lips dragging too much to be comfortable. Pulling back up, he wet them with his tongue and slid back down again, trying to fit all of Clark into his mouth as Clark had done with him. Abruptly, he gagged hard, had to pull up to cough, his cheeks coloring faintly at what he'd just done. Determination made him go back in and try for it again, though a hand in his hair stopped him just shy of gagging this time. For a few times, he had to be nearly steered by Clark's hand, the strain of his hairs telling him he was going awry somewhere. He eased, let Clark guide him, felt something else inside him ease at the idea of relinquishing this control as well. Clark pushed him down on his cock and then let go, hand instead resting on the counter behind Bruce.

Bruce worked himself up and then back down Clark's shaft, proud when he didn't gag. He moaned around him and went faster, excited to be sucking his first dick after so long. It didn’t take long before Clark's hand was back in his hair and Clark's hips canted forward, remained there as Bruce did his thing, and then Clark was whispering, strained and oh-so-broken, "I... _Bruce_ , oh... _oh_!" He felt Clark tense, looked up to see his lips part, his eyelids hood, a look of pure ecstasy on his face, and then warm cum was pulsing into his mouth and Bruce was drinking it down eagerly, swallowing everything he was being given.

Clark finished and Bruce let his cock slip from his mouth, accepted it when Clark knelt again and brought him in close, their lips meeting again and again. He felt warm and _safe_ crowded against the counter here in Clark's kitchen and he felt like this could be the start of something truly wonderful if he let it be.


End file.
